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I couldn't tell you the last time I've written. The funny thing is, I find myself unable to write my life down only when it's full of new surprises, happenings and situations. Everything is different than it was and there's nothing bad about that.

I'm rounding the last corner of my junior year in college, waiting for summer to come when I can ship myself overseas to Florence, Italy and enjoy another adventure. I'll feel refreshed when I'm surrounded by hundreds of faces I've never seen before. I'll feel more at home, oddly enough. I can't wait to see what two art classes in the heart of Florence has to offer me, and more importantly, I can't wait to see how it will change me. I'm ready to get lost again. Summer is the perfect time to get lost.

With Charlie gone to the army, I've come to appreciate words on paper again, yet it seems the only thing I feel comfortable writing these days are letters. It's been months since I've sat down at my computer and gotten lost in words until my fingers cramped, but I guess there's nothing wrong with a break. My experiences this year would be impossible to forget, I just need to find the strength to scribble again.

With one million racing thoughts and thousands of sentences I need to write down, I'm going to wrap this up. I'll have to ease back into this.

Until next time, little does she know, the sound of that heartbeat she heard at the hospital yesterday will stick with her forever. Whoever you are, she loves you already.

I actually turned 21 after a couple years of pretending I already had. It feels good, I guess. It would have felt better if they hadn't have asked for an alternate form of identification when I showed them my REAL I.D. for once. I guess I've changed a little since I was 16 with a spray tan, chapel skirt and sweater vest. Actually, let me go ahead and take that as a compliment. Those were the days. So they say. I like to think these are the days though.

I woke up the next moring cozy in my bed with a nice suade Indiana Jones hat that I stole from a hat stand in a bar, bruises and a pizza in my fridge. I have great friends. I have yet to take another sip of alcohol since. But I'll be in Little Italy soon.

I refuse to think that this year was the last birthday milestone though...what about 22, my lucky number? Or 25, when I'm able to rent a car...

Rachel and I went on a grown up, best-friend dinner date the night after my birthday at the Belmont. It was complete with valet parking and champagne. What we didn't ask for was the dumb blonde in the cheetah sweater at the bar next to our table. Her voice voice was at least ten octaves higher than any normal human being and her IQ was at least 50 points lower than the average 7 year old. Rachel kindly asked our waitress if she could be removed from the restaurant when we just couldn't handle anymore "take a picture of me, take a picture of me, oh let me look at it". We sat on the same side of our booth starring at her with our mouths open, I'm pretty sure. Christmas Wish: Please God never let me be that girl. Thank you.

I was supposed to be in Cancun after my birthday with mom, but that didn't work out thanks to Mother Nature. She decided that the Northeast should get two feet of snow and the airports should get backed up. Our flights cancelled for two days, so we gave up on the beach and went shopping. I'm happy, though. Being home is a perfect birthday present and it makes going to New York that much more exciting...so be nice Mother Nature.

I can't wait to be back in my favorite place. It's all I can think about.

Merry Christmas y'all! Enjoy every second of the holidays.

Eat a cookie, hug your family extra tight, thank a soldier and see the Blind Side.

You learn a lot about yourself when you begin losing people you don't want to see go, I think. I learned that as comfortable as I am with myself, I still have missing pieces. I learned that I actually am capable of tears and have been on the fast and easy track my whole life without even realizing it. Maybe I'm coming off that track and maybe I'll have to work harder now for things I love. Maybe my life won't just work out perfectly like it always has. After almost 5 months, I think I'm finally OK with that.

Thanksgiving came at a perfect time. When someone goes away it's good to know you still have the ones you don't think about enough. Home felt good.

Sometimes there's no resolve, sometimes you just get tired of being sad. I got tired of it. So, I'm just going to stop. I remembered something called 'perspective' this Thanksgiving. I remembered that sometimes our own is the worst.

This year, Thanksgiving was so much more than being fat and happy for four days, guilt free.

Like I say, I don't know much but what I do know is that an hour of getting beat in tennis by your parents can almost delete a semester of sleepless nights, John Mayer speaks the truth, and it really is friends, lovers or nothing, there's no inbetween so give it up, and lastly, people change but New York City will always be the same.

Recently I found myself alone and stranded on the curb in a gas station parking lot at 3am wearing a perfect pink dress, new Steve Maddens and an employee of the gas station's wool coat, holding on to the bench portion of a pedi-cab for dear life...so no one would steal it?

It was my responsibility to guard the precious piece of equiptment, of course.

A typical end to a typical night in my world. If only that had been the end...we won't get into it.

With that being said, I naturally took a liking to this headline in USA Today.

Don't tell anybody, but today I'm that girl that makes excuses for another person because it makes her feel better. I'm that awful girl who justifies actions because it's easier to pretend everything's the same than it is to accept what's real.

One time my fortune cookie told me that affection is never wasted. I hope that's true.

Today I'm antsy. I have a shorter than normal attention span and the urge to get in my car and drive to the beach and forget about my little babies in sparkly leotards or scheduling a time slot in the production studio or catching up on my current events for my quiz tomorrow. I hate the news lately, anyways.

I think the best times in our lives are a double-edged sword. Sometimes the best times in our lives make everyday life less satisfying.

I wish I could practice half of what I preach.

Today I'm accepting a theory as fact. Give someone the opportunity to let you down, and they will take it. I don't like that I believe this. It's not very me to think this way at all. It seems like the safer bet to swallow this understanding, though.

I'm scared for the next couple of months and I'm mad that losing people is a part of life. I've never wanted time to move slower and faster at the same time until now.

I took the bus home from campus today and a big part of me wanted to run away to a big city again, where I could ride on busses where no one knows me every single day.

I'm a chronic thinker. Even when I'm sleeping my mind goes crazy. I'd pay $100 dollars to have an on/off switch for it.

I pretend to care about a lot more things than I actually care about. I can fake enthusiasm and interest and concern really well.

I hate whenI realize that the only times that I pray are when I'm sad or scared or needing or wanting.

To catch up, I'm going to have to dig in my memory bank for the clutch stories over the past couple months. If not for your reading pleasures, than for my personal nostalgia years from now. Here's one for the books.

A normal Thursday night in college typically consists of dressing up like something or someone ridiculous, not because it's Halloween, but because it's Thursday. This particular Thursday was coined "Career Day" and my roommate Leigh had be scheming her perfect outfit for days. A wedding dress. M.R.S. Degree. Oh so clever. The stunning gown she found was off the racks at Goodwill and about three sizes too small, but she bought it anyways after much reassuring that it was nothing a hot glue gun and some scissors couldn't fix. It was God awful. The ugliest, snow-monster dress I've ever seen.

Anyways, after we doctored her dress up and literally tied and glued her in it, we were off. By the way, I was an E! News Red Carpet Correspondent, but...not important. She had two Miller High Life bottles and a fanny pack. Because it's true that wierd things happen to wierd people, a camera crew for a new COPS like show was patrolling with our city's policemen that night. Who better for an episode than a raging bride-to-be with a fanny pack, right? Little did she know that before the police busted the party they had been filming her for about 20 minutes. They saw her try to jump a fence with a 10 foot train and they saw her ditch her Forties in the bushes.

The cops ended up having to help Leigh up out of a mud puddle and preceded to film her for another 30 minutes. She was giving them good T.V. Really good T.V. Trust me, I saw it. After begging her to sign the dotted line and pleading with the reasoning that she would make an awesome episode, they left her with a pretty little ticket and an epic story.